


We Only Go Backwards

by zombified_queer



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Abuse/Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Infidelity, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Mental Health Issues, Other, Post-Canon, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 22:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14459031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombified_queer/pseuds/zombified_queer
Summary: Garak needs to reinstate his citizenship as a Cardassian and Dukat needs another Cardassian with a very unique set of skills to keep him on the straight and narrow. They only bonded with each other to use the other. At least, that's what they tell themselves.





	We Only Go Backwards

Their quarters are small, not nearly enough space to avoid each other. Garak's curled up in an armchair, content to spend most of their transport back to Cardassia reading. Dukat watches, intrigued by the set of Garak's jaw, the near emotionless way he reads.

"Anything good?"

"Not particularly," Garak answers. "Poetry. Not that you'd be able to read it."

Garak's voice is bitter and Dukat smiles fondly at his new bondmate. Reaching over, Dukat takes Garak's free hand, entwining their fingers.

Garak looks up from his reading, blue eyes narrowed icily at Dukat. Garak takes his hand back, seeming to contemplate slapping Dukat. He must think better of it since he presses his knuckles to his mouth and continues reading.

"Do you have to be so bitter?" Dukat asks.

"I do," Garak says. 

"Read to me?" Dukat asks, hand dropping. 

Fingers brush against Garak's thigh. With a raised brow, Garak adjusts, settling to discourage Dukat from touching him again. 

"I think not," Garak says coolly. "Get some rest and give me a break."

Dukat hums, content to watch Garak read without bothering him again. He reflects on their vows, their bonding overseen by Captain Sisko. Neither of them had really meant it but no one had challenged their vows. 

Dukat smiled at the simple silver band on Elim's finger. "Dear one."

"Do not call me that," Garak hissed. "I married you to reinstate my citizenship, nothing more."

"It says something that I'm bringing a Cardassian back to Cardassia. Increasing the population and all."

"You're disgusting," Garak says calmly. "And unless you've neglected to tell me, I doubt the two of us will be increasing the population, Skrain."

Dukat chuckles. He doesn't argue with Garak anymore, but he's pleased Garak's called him by his first name.

It's a start.

* * *

After nearly a day of traveling, they arrive on Cardassia. 

Nothing could have prepared them. Dukat's dealt with death and war and Garak's dealt with torture but it's nothing compared to this. 

Most of the major cities (they've been dropped off in Lakarian) are nothing but empty shells. The buildings have all been bombed out, fire spreading through the interiors. Smoke makes Dukat sneeze, the air thick almost choking.

And the people are worse. Those who survive are near-feral, starved. More people than not are wounded, missing limbs. A woman looks over at Garak, half her face a mess of burns.

"Come on," Dukat urges Garak gently. "Don't linger, dear one."

"Don't call me that," Garak hisses. But he sticks close to Dukat, appreciating the other Cardassian's height, the broadness of Dukat’s shoulders. "We're not in love."

Dukat, catching people staring at them, turns and kissing Garak, just chastely, the first time since they've been bonded.

It stops most of the stares.

* * *

When they reach the house, Garak tenses. Tain's house, the estate bordering on a manor in its previous glory, is almost entirely destroyed. The shelling took the whole of the roof, the west and north walls reduced to rubble, the east walls crumbling. Garak slinks through the ruins of the home, searching for something in particular. Dukat follows Garak in, nervous about 

"What are you looking for?" Dukat asks, making a point to avoid the broken glass spread in the shattered stones.

Garak doesn't respond and if it wasn't for his footsteps on the stone, Dukat might think Garak's stuck somewhere, trapped under the ruins. 

A sharp cry makes Dukat hurry through the collapsed house, searching for scales among the stone. He finds Garak in near hysterics, laughing shrilly and the sound chills Dukat's blood. 

"What is it?" he snaps at Garak. "What's wrong with you?"

"It's still here, after all this time," Garak wheezes through his laughter. 

He points at the door, a plain piece of wood that survived the shelling with minor scorching. It has an old-fashioned metal handle with a lock and deadbolt on the outside. Dukat unlatches the deadbolt. Garak, calming from his fit, walks off, shaking. Dukat unlocks the door, opening it.

It's a pantry, though it's empty except for dust and a few insect husks. Rolling his eyes, Dukat walks off in search of Garak.

* * *

They decide to turn the gardening shed into their home instead of bothering with the ruins of the house. 

The first night is terribly uncomfortable. Dukat and Garak go to sleep on the hard floor, backs to each other, nestled under a single blanket.

Dukat wakes up sore, on his side, with Garak's face pressed into his chest. Gingerly, Dukat cards his fingers through Garak's hair. 

Garak sighs, "Stop it, Skrain," and goes back to sleep.

"Sorry," Dukat whispers, knowing Garak can't hear him.

* * *

Dukat gets a pallet bed for them, just one and one large enough for both of them. The nights during the past week are colder on Cardassia and they find sharing body heat is easiest on both of them. 

Tonight, Garak returns to their shed coated in dust from his day with Kelas, digging survivors out of the rubble. Garak doesn't speak, but Dukat knows he's unnerved. There's a hollowness to Garak's eyes as he washed most of the dust from his arms and face. 

Dukat approaches slowly and from behind. He wraps his arms around Garak's waist, noting how thin Garak's becoming. He must be avoiding meals. It worries Dukat. 

Kissing along the back of Garak's neck, Dukat murmurs, "Come to bed. You need your rest."  
Garak nods, breaking out of Dukat's hold. He strips in front of their bed, shirt pooling on the sandy floor, and Dukat raises a brow ridge.

"What are you doing?" Dukat asks.

"We never consummated our bonding." Garak continues stripping, trousers slipped off. He lays on his side, looking through Dukat.

"You're old-fashioned," Dukat teases. But he strips out of his clothes faster, joining Garak in bed.

"I'm . . . old."

"Not old," Dukat says. He leans in to kiss Garak, but the other puts up a hand to stop Dukat's advance. "Something wrong?"

"We don't love each other," Garak answers. 

"That's the first honest thing I've heard you say ever." Dukat presses his chufa to Garak's. "I think I like honesty on you."

Garak hums, reaching down to tease at Dukat's slit. Dukat hums, purring deeply. 

"You're such an eager harlot," Dukat says.

"Stop talking." Garak pushes Dukat onto his back, straddling him. He coaxes Dukat's cock out of his slit, stroking just once. 

"Wait," Dukat says softly. He reaches between Garak's thighs, stroking Garak's slit. "You're not enjoying this."

"It's hard to enjoy anything when you keep talking." 

"Let me," Dukat begs, "get you excited too."

Garak blinks. He doesn't say anything either way. Dukat rolls them over, laying Garak back in bed. 

Dukat's content to kiss at Garak's neck ridges. When that doesn't seem to get Garak worked up, Dukat bites, just gently. That gets a moan.

Dukat laps at Garak's chula, kissing along Garak's collarbones. While he's kissing gently, Dukat can feel Garak's bones protruding more.

His runs up the inside of Garak's thigh, content just to pet the softer scales there.

"Hard," Garak says. 

"You want pain?"

Garak nods. 

Dukat bites at Garak's chula, drawing a groan from the other Cardassian. It'll bruise by tomorrow but it gets Garak in the mood, it seems.

Dukat plants kisses over Garak's abdomen, relishing in his bondmate's belly, the small layer of fat there. 

"It's a good thing to have a bit of meat on your bondmate," Dukat breathes against Garak's abdomen, between kisses. 

"Don't ever phrase it like that again," Garak warns. "I should cut your tongue out."

"If you did, I couldn't do this." 

Dukat laps at Garak's chuva, which makes Garak sigh. Garak's slit is gently parted, the tip of his cock out. Dukat presses a kiss to Garak's slit, running his tongue over the scales there. 

Garak's nails dig into Dukat's scalp, encouraging him.

Dukat's all too happy to comply, sucking at Garak, slipping his tongue into the other's slit, kissing at him. 

"You like that?" Dukat asks, planting another kiss to Garak.

Garak doesn't reply, but he eases up with his clawing, allowing Dukat to pull away.  
Dukat positions himself and slowly thrusts into Garak. Writhing, Garak sinks his nails into Dukat's shoulders. Dukat chuckles, enjoying the stinging.

As he rocks into Garak, the other Cardassian rolls his hips, hissing. But his pupils are wide with desire. Dukat knows is he made one wrong move, Garak could easily injure him, perhaps even kill him. And yet the other is laying here, letting Dukat fuck him.

Dukat's hold on Garak's hips goes from careful to possessive, bruising almost. Perhaps he will bruise. Dukat thinks about Garak's shirt riding up, revealing bruises on his hips, and that sends a thrill racing down Dukat's spine.

Dukat adjusts his angle, still gripping Garak's hips. The change hits the one spot that makes Garak hiss, a long-drawn out cry of delight.

"Do that again."

Dukat does, drawing hisses and moans from Garak. Those nails dig deeper into Dukat's back, long and shallow scratches welling up with blood. 

The thing they're doing is primal. Claiming, marking, hissing, writhing.

Garak cums first, back arching and crying with pleasure. 

Dukat fills Garak with his seed, chuckling softly.

"Bring me a wet rag," Garak says, refusing affection. "You've made a mess of me."

Dukat nods, getting out of bed, getting a rag and wetting it. Instead of letting Garak clean himself, Dukat does it instead. Dukat kisses Garak's abdomen. 

"You're too sentimental," Garak says. "It's a horrible trait to have. Makes you soft."

"I think you're pretty soft," Dukat says, pinching at Garak's hip.

"Clean up and come to bed," Garak scolds Dukat. 

"Yes, darling," Dukat says. 

He does clean himself off, wiping Garak's cum off his abdomen. 

When he returns to bed, Garak's already dozing off. Dukat sighs, pulling the blanket over them both. He pulls Garak close to his chest, pressing kisses to the back of Garak's neck.

* * *

They schedule sex three times a week like a passionless couple married for years instead of a newly bonded couple. It's as casual as planning what they'll eat for dinner, if they'll eat dinner. 

Sometimes Garak tries to go without food, insisting an Obsidian Order agent should be strong in the face of withdrawal. Dukat refuses to let Garak starve, insisting he eat. If Garak comes back too tired, Dukat feeds Garak himself, offering him bites of food until Garak dozes off.

His time with Kelas exhausts Garak physically and mentally. He comes back silent and distant, sun-drunk and too tired to talk. 

Dukat, finally allowed to be affectionate with Garak, cards fingers through his bondmate's hair. "Why don't you stop working with Kelas?"

Garak raises a brow ridge. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"We all have to do our part in the reconstruction of Cardassia. You would know that if you did more than petting me and being a homemaker," Garak hisses. 

"I worry about you," Dukat insists. "You're always tired and you seem persistent on starving to death. Perhaps you should take a break."

"What would I do in the meanwhile? You really aren't a planner, Dukat."

Dukat hums, kissing Garak chastely. "You'll think of something."

* * *

Garak is stubborn and goes back to helping Kelas anyways. Dukat watches Garak dress in the mornings, never letting on he knows Garak leaves early in the morning. Garak probably knows Dukat's awake anyway.

Dukat doesn't stop him. He's content to wait until Garak collapses from exhaustion.  
While Garak's busy digging in the rubble, Dukat spends time working on the shed turning it into a home. He uses what he can scavenge from the ruins of the house to expand on the shed. He spends long hours on a proper kitchen, hoping more space might keep Garak at home easier. 

And then it happens.

Dukat's been working on the new addition to the house all morning and two Cardassians staggering toward him draws his stare. It takes him a moment to realize Garak's being supported by the other. Dukat drops everything and hurries toward them, taking Garak in his arms.

"You're Dukat?" the stranger asks, adjusting their spectacles.  
Dukat nods, looking at Garak. Garak seems all to content to cling to Dukat and close his eyes, bury his face in Dukat's neck. 

"I'm Parmak, Kelas Parmak. Garak . . . he needs to rest," Kelas says, looking just as worried. "He's worn himself out. Please, since you're his bondmate, make sure he rests. Make him drink water."

Dukat nods. "I told you, you were working too hard."

Garak hums, tired and just wanting to rest. 

"I've got him, Kelas. He'll rest, I assure you."

Kelas adjusts their spectacles once more, reluctant to leave but now wanting to pry.

Dukat brings Garak into the shed they share, laying Garak in bed. He brings Garak water, making him drink it slowly while Dukat brushes Garak's hair back. 

"You could have been hurt," Dukat says.

"Being injured would be the least of my worries, Skrain."

"It would be the most of mine."

Garak huffs, turning away from Dukat. He sleeps, though, and it eases Dukat that Garak's still got fight in him. 

"Stubborn," Dukat scolds, working as quietly as he can on the shed's renovations.

* * *

Now Dukat sees how bad Garak's mental state's been. Sometimes, he simply curls up into himself, staring at nothing. He jumps when Dukat touches his shoulders or the back of his neck. Dukat stops touching there without asking, not liking how violently Garak startles.

Some nights, Garak cries out, screaming in his sleep. It's harder to deal with that, half-asleep, than with the startling. Garak claws when he feels smothered, making Dukat unable to comfort him until Garak's calmed himself down. 

Garak, in helping Dukat clean, finds a small cloth bag. He smiles, content, it seems.

"What is it?"

"I'm going to take up gardening, I think."

Dukat raises a brow ridge expecting more. It doesn't come.

The next few days Garak spends waging a war against the wilderness, trying to tame some small corner for his garden. It's a very Cardassian thing to see. Dukat appreciates G 

"You're sure they'll grow?"

"Growing Edosian orchids was a family secret," Garak says.

Dukat shrugs. 

The kitchen is finished when the first bits of green from the orchid bulbs sprout. It takes a week to furnish it, Dukat spending time making it a place to be proud of. 

Garak seems to appreciate the extra space, even if he doesn't say it.

* * *

Garak screams. 

Dukat knows the sound by now, kissing Garak's cheek before slipping out of their bed. As much as he loathes to do it, he opens the front door to their shed, just a bit, knowing it will be workl to sweep the sand out in the morning. 

He turns on the low lights strung around the inside of the shed. The lights always help bring Garak out of whatever dark corner he's disappeared to without startling him awake.

When he's awake, Garak begs, "Skrain."

Dukat sighs, "I'm here." 

He gets into bed, under the covers. Garak curls up, head resting on Dukat's chest. Dukat's content to run fingers through Garak's hair.

"Better?" Dukat asks.

Garak admits, "Marginally."

Dukat nods, continuing to pet his bondmate. "You're safe, you know. I'm here."

"That's what worries me," Garak mumbles. 

The petting seems to do Garak some good. Dukat scratches gently at his mate's back. Garak makes a low purr, the first Dukat's ever heard it. 

He decides not to comment on it, content to just be affectionate with Garak. 

It takes Dukat a while to realize Garak's fallen asleep, still purring. He pulls the thick blanket over both of them, keeping Garak warm.

* * *

"Going out again?"

Garak looks over his shoulder, unreadable in the morning light. He's only half-dressed. "I wanted to help Kelas again."

Dukat sighs, laying on his side and simply staring at Garak. He's handsome in the dim light, shirt off, scales exposed. His chuva is tucked away below the waistline of his trousers (though if they're navy or black, Dukat can't quite tell yet) but his chula is on display. If he tilts his head just right, Dukat thinks he can make out blue cosmetic paint, though it might just be shadows.

"Work a half day instead. I don't need you collapsing again. Besides," Dukat stretches, putting himself on just as much of a display as Garak, "I don't know the first thing about flowers."

He can't tell if Garak smiles. He thinks so. 

After Garak's gone, Dukat sets into his new project. He wants Garak to have a reading room. He's decided not to close off the room with a door, just an entryway. 

Mid-morning, Dukat pauses, pleased with his progress on making their shed larger. It does look cobbled together, but Dukat's more concerned with space instead of aesthetics. 

"Now I understand why Elim is your bondmate."

Dukat looks over his shoulder. Kelas is staring up at him with thinly-veiled appreciation. 

"I thought Elim was working with you this morning."

"He is," Kelas says. "I came to talk to you."

Dukat sets his tools down, raising a brow ridge. "Did he hurt himself again?"

"No," Kelas says. "But I'm prescribing him something to help with the nightmares."

From their bag, Kelas produces a hypospray and plenty of vials. They hand the hypo off to Dukat, who holds it experimentally.

"Give him one vial before bed," Kelas instructs. "It should help him sleep through the night."

"Do you think he's a danger to himself?" Dukat asks offhandedly.

"Elim has always been a danger to himself," Kelas says, just barely smiling. "With some help, he might be less of a danger."

"Just to others?"

That makes Kelas laugh.

* * *

"I don't see why you have to do this," Garak says, feeling silly with his head tilted for Dukat's ease.

Dukat presses the hypo to Garak's neck, right where Kelas instructed, and injects the sedative into Garak. "Let's just try it, alright?"

"There's plenty of harm in just trying it," Garak protests. "Kelas Parmak has a motive to kill me, you know."

"Well, if this kills you, then I'll avenge your death."

Garak scoffs, "You're insufferable."

"And yet you haven't divorced me," Dukat points out, laying on his side.

Garak sighs, getting as comfortable as he can, sharing a bed with his enemy. "You know just as well as I do we both had ulterior motives."

Dukat kisses Garak's cheek. "I know. Go to sleep."

The sedative seems to work, Garak falling into a deep sleep. Dukat waits just a moment longer before getting out of bed to turn off the lights. He curls up on his side again, next to Garak, brushing a stray strand of hair back from Garak's face.

He looks peaceful like this. There's no worry to Garak's face, no unspoken terror. Dukat smiles, glad to have helped his bondmate feel this calm, this secure.

* * *

Garak wakes Dukat up by lapping at his chuva.

"You're eager," Dukat chides, not opening his eyes. "This isn't even on our schedule."

"I want it," Garak says.

"You're spoiled," Dukat says. 

Garak straddles Dukat, grinding his hips against the other's. Dukat, lazily, cups Garak's hip. 

"You're very handsome when you're sleeping peacefully." Dukat looks up at Garak, taking in the sight of him. He's, regretfully, kept his shirt on.

"You're very creepy when you watch others sleep," Garak responds. 

Dukat hums, his other hand tracing Garak's slit. Garak's slit glistens with slick, Dukat just tracing his scales for a moment. "Is this the medicine talking or are you just in a good mood?"

Garak doesn't reply, taking his time to get Dukat everted by rolling his hips. Dukat groans, nails sinking into Garak's thigh. Garak hisses.  
"For an ex-Obsidian Order agent, you seem to enjoy pain."

"You can thank my father," Garak replies.

It's not the best dirty talk, but Dukat does evert thanks to Garak's hips and those icy blue eyes. Garak wastes no time getting Dukat's cock into him, groaning with satisfaction. 

Dukat grasps at Garak's thighs and hips hard enough to bruise. Garak hisses, clawing at Dukat's chest as he rides him. The clawing stings delightfully, Dukat pulling Garak's hips down. Garak surrenders this small amount of control but Dukat surrenders more, relishing in the way Garak only uses him for pleasure.

"Elim," Dukat growls.

Garak considers it for a moment before sighing, as if bored. "Fine."

Dukat cums, grasping at Garak, nails digging into Garak's hips. When he comes down from his post-orgasm haze, Dukat notices Garak hasn't cum.

He lays Garak back, biting at his neck ridges, the scales hot in Dukat's mouth. Garak hisses. Dukat's mouth moves lower, to Garak's collarbones, down his abdomen, kissing at Garak's hips. Dukat slips two fingers into Garak's wet slit, pressing just right to stimulate him into everting. Looking up, Garak's got a brow ridge raised in anticipation.

Making sure Garak's watching, Dukat makes a show of kissing along Garak's cock. It's nothing monstrous. It's plainly and simply Garak. Dukat takes Garak into his mouth, looking up to find Garak intrigued.

"I've had better, I think, from a Terran," Garak notes. 

Dukat doesn't stop. It's Garak's way of spurring him on, bending him to his will. It's a masterful skill.

He sucks at Garak, uncoordinated but only wanting to please his bondmate. His tongue runs over the scales at Garak's base, drawing a low purr from Garak's chest. Dukat keeps it up, Garak rolling his hips toward Dukat's mouth. Garak's nails dig into Dukat's scalp, keeping Dukat's mouth there. 

Garak doesn't warn Dukat when he cums, simply hissing. Dukat's mouth is overfull, but he swallows. He pulls away, wiping his lips with his hand and licking them clean. 

"You're making a show out of nothing," Garak says.

Dukat hums, laying next to Garak, on his side, one hand resting on Garak's chest, feeling the other's heart racing. "But you liked it."

Garak doesn't answer. It takes him a moment before he feels like moving. "We should clean up."

Dukat kisses Garak's cheek, getting out of bed. He draws a bath for Garak, the water warm. Returning to their bed, he picks Garak up, carrying him.

"You're going to hurt yourself," Garak warns, "showing off like this."

"You're not heavy. Not as much as you used to be."

Garak seems unsatisfied with that answer. Dukat lowers him into the water, Garak groaning with satisfaction at the warmth. Slowly, Dukat joins Garak, Garak's back resting against Dukat's chest. 

The water makes the scratches on both of them sting, the water tinged with blood.

Garak's head rests on Dukat's shoulder. "Did you know Terrans carry their bondmates across the threshold of their new home? It's a tradition of romance."

"You should have told me sooner." Dukat's hands idly massage Garak's back, finding him tense. "I would have carried you into our shed."

"Not as much a shed anymore," Garak points out.

* * *

Once they've cleaned up and dried off, Dukat sits on the bed, Garak on the floor. Garak's hair's gotten longer and Dukat's got his mind set on braiding it. He's clumsy, trying to recall the way he used to help Ziyal. But in the end, the plait stays. 

Garak spends his time in the garden. The orchids flourish, green sprawling across every surface. 

Dukat spends the day changing the sheets, cleaning their home, anything to keep busy.

They eat dinner together, barely talking, but not feeling the need to fill the space with conversation. After they've eaten, Garak rests his head on Dukat's shoulder. Dukat puts an arm around him.

"Do you want to go to bed early?" Dukat asks. "Go ahead. I'll clean up."

"No," Garak says, voice firm. "Just hold me a moment."

Dukat nods, keeping Garak close.

* * *

The nightly sedative brings a certain peace to their life. There's no more screaming in the middle of the night, no more clawing at Dukat in terror.

Garak does help Kelas when he can, never overworking himself to the point of fainting. But he feels fulfilled helping.

Dukat eventually finishes the reading room for Garak, proud of it. 

When Garak returns home, Dukat meets him outside. 

"You've set something on fire," Garak says, a brow ridge raised.

"No," Dukat says. "I have a surprise for you."

Carefully, Dukat scoops Garak up, carrying him into their shed. Garak knows what this is supposed to mean and makes a show of hissing at him, playing at being displeased. But Dukat doesn't lay Garak in bed. Instead, he carries him to the reading room, setting him down to investigate.

"You needed space," Dukat explains. "I made more space."

It's a comfortable enough room, getting plenty of sun in the afternoon to warm it. It'll be a delight for reading, a place for sunning before the sun sets. 

"It's . . . I wasn't expecting this," Garak admits. "It could do with some plants, I think."

"Well, you're lucky I know just the man to help with that," Dukat says.

* * *

When it comes time for Garak's sedative, Dukat explains, "We've run out of vials, but don't worry."

Garak does look distressed. "Dukat, I don't think I'll be able to sleep through the night without it."

Kissing at Garak's neck ridges, Dukat assures him, "I'll go see Kelas in the morning. Get more vials for you."

Garak allows himself to be tucked in. He clings to Dukat, knowing the other can keep him safe, but not sure Dukat can handle the night terrors again.

Dukat kisses Garak's cheek, pulling the blanket over both of them. "Try to sleep," Dukat tells him. "It'll be alright."

Garak tries and manages to fall asleep. Dukat smiles, brushing a stray strand out of Garak's face. They manage to sleep, Garak in Dukat's arms, for a few hours. 

When Garak wakes up, there's no screaming this time but his shivering rouses Dukat. Lazily, Dukat rubs Garak's back.

"You're real?" Garak whispers.

Dukat hums. "I'm real, Elim."

Garak reaches up, touching Dukat's face, tracing every detail.

"Can't sleep?" Dukat asks. 

"I'll need some time," Garak says.

Dukat kisses him. He smiles to himself, knowing there's vials hidden in the kitchen, where Garak never goes.

* * *

Each day is a new excuse. 

"You needed me here, Elim, you were very afraid."

"I was busy getting our supplies, Elim, it slipped my mind."

"I've been cleaning all day, Elim, please be patient."

Once or twice, he'll take one of the vials, pretending he's visited Kelas. The ruse, along with Garak's own fatigue, keeps him from going to Kelas himself, driving Garak further into Dukat's arms.

It's exactly where he wants Garak to be.

* * *

He comes home with food supplies. Dukat goes to the kitchen, not catching sight of Garak, but hearing him in the reading room. Smiling, Dukat gets things put away. He hears Garak moving through the house, toward the kitchen.

"When were you going to tell me?" Garak asks.

Dukat turns his head. Garak sets a vial on the countertop.

"You hid them from me," Garak hisses. "You wanted me to suffer."

"Elim," Dukat says softly, cupping Garak's cheek.

Garak swats Dukat's hand away. "Why?"

"I didn't want you to become dependent on them," Dukat lies. "You were taking them every night."

"Because I needed to take them," Garak corrects him. "Kelas, though they may have a reason to kill me, is a doctor."

"Funny," Dukat says. "You seemed so paranoid the first time I had to give you the sedative."

"Because," Garak hisses, "I thought you had my best interests in mind. I suppose I was wrong." 

He turns, storming off. Dukat grabs Garak's wrist, but Garak twists his hand out of Dukat's grasp. The shed door slams as Garak leaves.

Dukat picks up the vial, sighing to himself.

* * *

Garak's gone for two days and the orchids resent all of Dukat's attempts to nurse them back to health. They seem to wilt more when Dukat handles them, waters them, even looks at them the wrong way.

Garak returns, late in the evening, saying nothing and getting into bed. He reeks of Kelas and of sex. Dukat doesn't need to press. He understands.

Dukat makes dinner, brings it to Garak. "You need to eat."

"I already ate."

It's a lie and a bad one.

"Garak, if you'd like, I can sleep in the reading room," Dukat offers. "Just, please eat."

Garak sighs, sitting upright. There's bite marks around Garak's throat, bruises along what little of Garak's collarbone Dukat can see. 

Dukat feeds Garak without a word, content to serve his bondmate. Garak eats everything offered, making cold eye contact with Dukat.

"We've betrayed each other," Dukat notes, eyes lingering on Garak's bites and bruises. "Do you want-?"

"No," Garak says firmly. "Just don't touch them. They'll heal."

Dukat can't resist, tracing one of the deepest bites. His hand comes away with a drop of blood and Garak hisses. 

"Was it only Kelas?" Dukat asks.

Garak nods. 

"I forgive you, Elim. I hope you can do the same for me."

"My forgiveness," Garak says firmly, "is not lightly given, Dukat."

The way Garak spits his name is enough. Dukat nods, returning to the kitchen.

When he returns to gather his things, Garak simply watches until Dukat makes for the reading room.

"Not there," Garak says.

Dukat raises a brow ridge. "Fine."

He sleeps in the kitchen instead, on the floor like a pet.

* * *

When he wakes up, Garak is gone again. This time, at least, he's left a note telling Dukat he's just going to help Kelas. Dukat has his doubts, but he pulls the vials from the stash in the kitchen.

He decides hiding them in one cache isn't the best, so Dukat spends the day finding spots for the vials throughout the house.

When Garak returns, he doesn't smell like sex and Kelas, only like dust.

"Garak," Dukat says. "Please, let me braid your hair again."

"Why?" Garak asks, eyes narrowed. 

"I want to be affectionate with you again," Dukat begs. "I just want another chance."

"I came back here, didn't I?"

Dukat blinks, not saying a word. 

"Kelas does have a much nicer place," Garak says. He brushes past Dukat to go clean off from the day's work among the rubble. 

While Garak cleans himself up, Dukat begins gathering the vials, setting them all the on the kitchen counter. One drops to the floor, glass shattering.

"Skrain?"

"It's nothing," Dukat assures his bondmate. 

He kneels, picking up the largest shards up from the stone floor, slicing open his finger in the process. Hissing, he sucks on the cut, tasting blood. 

"You're hiding them again." 

Dukat looks up to find Garak staring at him, water glistening over Garak's face and chest.

"I was going to," Dukat admits, finding only ice in Garak's stare. "But I wanted to make it up to you."

Garak watches, seeming to relish in Dukat's pain, him cleaning the glass shards. 

"I think," Garak says softly. "I want to go to bed early."

"After dinner?"

Garak nods. "And I have some faith in Kelas' prescriptions."

"Sex does that, doesn't it?" Dukat says.

Garak huffs, leaving Dukat to his work.

* * *

It's not until the hypo hisses, the sedative injected into Garak that he relaxes. Dukat sets the hypo injector aside and gets up from the bed. Garak's hand gripping his wrist stops him.

"Where are you going?" Garak asks.

"I was going to spend the night in the kitchen," Dukat answers. 

"No," Garak answers.

Dukat sighs, joining Garak in bed. He lays on his side, watching Garak. "Were you cold alone in this bed?"

"Of course not," Garak replies. "The blankets are thick."

Dukat leans in to kiss Garak, but Garak puts up a hand.

"Don't act like I've forgiven you, Dukat."

Dukat nods. "Alright."

He's allowed to drape an arm over Garak, the other Cardassian falling into an easy sleep. Dukat does kiss Garak, but only once he's sure Garak's asleep, and gently, not wanting to wake him. Garak opens one eye, looking at Dukat for a long while.

"I'm sorry, Elim."

Garak turns over, back to Dukat's chest.

* * *

Garak goes to war in the garden again. He seems to blame Dukat for the state of the orchids. 

When he comes in for lunch, Garak's warm to the touch and Dukat could spend hours curled up to Garak, like a personal heat lamp. Feeding Garak, Dukat asks, "Will the orchids live?"

Garak swallows, drinks a generous portion of water. "They might. It will take time and care."

Dukat nods, continuing to feed Garak. When he gets up to garden again, Dukat gently pushes Garak back into bed.

"You're overworking yourself," Dukat tells him. "Take a nap."

"Just because you're lazy-"

"I worry about you, Elim," Dukat says. "You keep doing this. Overworking yourself to the point of harm, then resting for long periods. You need to be more steady."

"I would have been," Garak replies.

The accusation is plain. Dukat presses his forehead against Garak's shoulder, face buried in Garak.

"Let me up, Skrain."

"No," Dukat tells him. 

Garak, frustrated, pushes Dukat off him, the force sending Dukat to the floor. "You don't control me, Dukat."

"I know I don't," Dukat argues, picking himself up. "But I do care about you."

Garak gets out of bed, sighing. "We're only bonded to use each other. You can't care about someone you view as a tool."

"I've stopped seeing you as a tool," Dukat says. 

Garak looks at him for a long moment. Without saying a word, he leaves the shed yo go back into the garden.

* * *

It takes days to nurse the orchids back to health. Soon enough, their green sprawls across every surface, climbing the walls of the shed. They blossom, washing the shed in the cloying perfume of Edosian orchids. It's romantic, in a way.

Dukat and Garak, both satisfied with the previous day's work, decide to spend most of the morning curled up in bed. Dukat runs his fingers through Garak's hair while Garak dozes lightly.

"Are you proud of the garden, love?"

"Don't call me that," Garak grumbles. "But I am pleased with the progress the orchids made."

"Perhaps I should braid a couple into your hair," Dukat says. He kisses Garak's temple, finding a few grey strands in Garak's hair. 

"Edosian orchids," Garak says slowly, "can be made into a wonderful poison, if you know how to use them."

"Even more reason," Dukat chuckles. 

"Don't bother them," Garak begs. "Just . . . stay with me."

Dukat pulls Garak closer to him. "Alright, Elim."


End file.
